


No going back

by Bill_Longbow



Category: Iron Man (Comics), Marvel 616, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Canon-Typical Violence, Comics have too many details, Cosmic Cube, Freestyle, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-04-24 19:37:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19180042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bill_Longbow/pseuds/Bill_Longbow
Summary: When Tony deletes his memory he also loses his memories of Bucky and the secret relationship between director Stark and the new Captain America.Bucky can't take it and leaves with Natasha, to hunt old enemies in Europe, hoping he'll forget as well.





	No going back

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [No going back [Comic page]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19212358) by [MassiveSpaceWren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MassiveSpaceWren/pseuds/MassiveSpaceWren). 



> I'd like to give a really rough rundown on what happened before this fic for non comic book readers:  
> After the civil war and Steve Rogers' (temporary) death Bucky takes up the mantle of Captain America, while Tony is director of SHIELD.  
> When Tony stops Norman Osborn takes over, a period called the dark reign, and superheroes disperse. Tony has the names of all superheroes memorized, so he deletes his memory to keep the info from Osborn.  
> A cascade of confusing events later he is revived and has a back up memory, but this backup predates the civil war and he remembers nothing since then. 
> 
> A massive thank you to [Skye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skye_wyr/) and Kitt for betaing and cheering, and to [Mena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menatiera/) for helping me curse in Hungarian :D
> 
> I didn't want to join the RBB this year, but when I saw Wren's gorgeous art I just had to! Go over and give her all the love!

 “James, if you can’t focus I don’t want you along.” Natalia stares him down, one hand on her hip. Ostentatiously annoyed.

He only picks up on the Widow’s worry because he’s known her for so long. It’s in that subtle tilt of her eyebrow, the little lilt in her voice.

“Have you known me to fail?”

He knows she picks up on his hurt because she has known him just as long. He also knows she’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. Because even distracted he’s a better shot than anyone out there.

“Yes.”

She won’t pry. She’ll find out or wait ‘till he tells her. He might tell her. God knows there’s no one who is more intimately aware of all that he is, all that he was. And vodka goes a long way.

“Bet you a cask of Beluga I hit them first.”

A small smirk transforms Nat’s face into that of a little girl who outshone her class. “You’re on.”

 

\-------

He’s not entirely sure which bar they end up in after being kicked out of several others for rowdy behaviour. Now they sit slumped against each other, hand curled around a glass, sipping slowly. They’re the only patrons, and the old man behind the bar has fallen asleep hours ago after putting the bottle on the bar for them.

This is what he likes most about Natalia. The quiet. Most people shun it, try to fill it, but not her. She knows the value of it. Tony knows too. Or knew. It’s hard to tell what’s going on in the genius’ head nowadays. It’s better like this, to stay at a distance. It hurts less. Or at least he can pretend it does.

Bucky tried staying… after. He tried to work together, but it hurt every time Tony called him Bucky instead of _James_ ; even more when he wasn't allowed to touch.

_An aborted movement to pull Tony into a hug, not caught soon enough and Bucky stands there awkwardly with Tony looking confused and slightly uncomfortable, moving away a fraction before making the moment his own by clapping Bucky on the shoulder and cracking a joke._

_The next day Bucky leaves._

Without prompting Natalia refills his glass and they toast before knocking back the vodka in one go.

 

\---------

 

They stare through binoculars at the desolate town on the next mountain slope. Two days ago it had been a bustling village, but now the only thing that moved was the wind vane on top of the church tower.

It used to be a crossroads between mountain trails. A place where the unsavoury met and deals were struck.

They share a look that says everything and set off to investigate.

 

\----------

 

No amount of alcohol can scrub the image of lifeless children clutching to their mothers’ chests, but they still try.

Something is afoot but leaves no trail, and Bucky is more afraid of the thrill this gives him than the whatever it is itself. He shouldn't relish the thrill of a chase, not when there are human lives at stake, but he can't help but feel like finally he's doing something worthy again.

 

\---------

 

_“Isn’t it a little too tight around the ass?” Bucky does some experimental moves, and he has to admit the fabric has more give than he would’ve thought._

_“Not from where I’m standing,” Tony smirks, not even trying to hide the way his eyes travel all over Bucky’s body._

_Bucky's glad Hydra trained the blush out of him, because he can't say the genius' bright blue eyes leave him unaffected. He pulls the cowl over his head for good measure and does a little pose._

_"Can I pass the muster, director?"_

_Tony steps forward to pull the buckles around Bucky's hips a little tighter and taps him lightly on the chest. Right over the star._

_"Yes... I think you'll do quite nicely.” There is a sadness in his eyes but the smile stays firm._

_“Captain."_

 

\--------

 

“You can’t stay here forever.” Natalia remarks in his ear. He watches her gracefully decapitate a grunt, spinning around the body and plunging her knives into the next one before the headless corpse even sags.

“Says who?” He wishes he could cut the comms and just keep track of the Widow through his scope as she plows through the mercenaries, but she’s about to head inside while he stays here to take care of any backup or stragglers. Of course she would pick this moment to nag at him. Women.

“Says common sense.” Nat waits as he shoots the guard that has suddenly appeared on the roof before opening the door with the hand of one of the bodies that litter the ground. “And IHOP.” She looks back to salute him with a smirk and disappears inside.

“Common sense can choke on it,” he mutters as he studies his scanner for any heat signatures. The thing is a gift from Tony. Of course it’s a gift from Tony. Half his gear is handcrafted to his specs. All Stark originals.

“Alright then. _I_ can’t stay forever. Won’t, I should say.” Bucky can hear her fighting through his comm. Seems like Nat ran into a heavier opposition than they thought. Nothing she can’t handle, though. Not when she’s still able to continue this one sided conversation.

“Then leave.” Bucky knows he’s being played by the Widow in ways he can never imagine - web within a web within a web - so doesn’t even try to deflect or guess at what direction she’s trying to maneuver him in. She knows he can outstubborn the best of them, working with Steve Rogers requires nothing less, but she probably feels obliged to try anyway. He won’t like staying here by himself. Natalia and him have this camaraderie he doesn’t share with anyone else nowadays, and he knows he’s prone to brooding when he’s by himself, but going back just isn’t an option. Going back hurts in ways he can’t punch his way out of, and he’s done with that. Enough idiots here to put his fist through.

Movement on his scanner alerts him to a squad coming through the woods on snowmobiles, and he switches back to his scope.

“You can’t run away forever.” The racket inside has died down and by the sound of it Nat is walking down a stairwell.

“We’ve got company.” A perfect headshot makes the driver of the last snowmobile fall sideways, unnoticed by the other drivers. “And watch me.”

A snort over the comms accompanies another shot, taking two drivers out in one go. Finally catching up to what’s happening the remaining drivers start driving in erratic patterns between the trees, severely hampering Bucky’s ability to shoot them.

“You can start over.”

“No, I can’t. Tried that and it didn’t work out, _a franc essen beléd_!” He’s getting worked up enough to actually miss a shot, and he curses up a storm in Hungarian because he likes the sound of it. Mayhem erupts over the comms and Nat is quiet, which is a small consolation as he viciously pulls the trigger again and again.

The blood looks almost pretty in the otherwise monochrome background of greys, blacks and whites, and unbidden the memory of pink kissed lips above a black and white uniform resurfaces.

He resolutely pushes the image away. That’s over and done with, no turning back. He viciously wipes a hand over his face when the last of the men has fallen to the ground. The comms are still quiet. Too quiet. Bucky listens intently, but he can’t even make out the sound of Nat breathing. The woman can move deadly quietly, but with his fancy equipment Bucky can always pick up the faintest of sounds and now there’s nothing.

He dismantles his rifle with fast movements, slinging it onto his back with one hand and picking up the tripod with the other, and sets off at a trot downhill to the compound. It was a risk to split up, knowing they were not alone hunting, but an acceptable one without knowledge of where the threat would come from. Natalia and him have worked together for a long time, and they’ve never been in a situation where their combined skills weren’t enough to get them out so he’s not too worried. Just a little.

It’s eerily quiet in the forest, the snow dampens all sounds, and all he hears when he gets closer to the compound is the hum of a generator somewhere and the crunch of snow beneath his boots. He takes the same entrance as Natalia did and doesn’t need his tracker skills to see which path she took. The hallway is littered with the bodies of dead Hydra grunts, all cameras neatly shot or fried. He slows down when he nears the stairwell and pulls out his guns, taking silent steps downwards. At the bottom of the stairs he holds still to listen to his surroundings but there’s nothing, not even the usual sounds of a building, and it makes the hairs of his neck stand up.

As silently as he can he moves into the corridor beyond the stairwell. No signs of fighting, no signs of a struggle, no sign of Nat. Just an empty corridor without any distinguishing features apart from the carpet on the floor. Almost like Bucky had exited into a hotel.

Truly freaked out, Bucky pads forward, listening intently. He doesn’t know if it’s the silence that gets to him the most, or if it’s the knowledge that there’s someone’s fucking with his mind again.

The corridor opens onto a large hall, empty except for one large table in the middle, set for three. A huge, candle filled chandelier hangs from the ceiling, casting the whole space in a soft glow. Bucky studies the scene in front of him while he walks forward with both his guns trained on the blonde at the head of the table. Natalia is sitting to her right, completely still, and something about the way Nat holds herself makes Bucky’s skin crawl. Something is very, seriously wrong here. Worse than regular Nazi wrongness. At least she’s still breathing, if that’s not part of the illusion.

“Asset!” The blonde lady calls out when he gets closer, “just in time.”

He doesn’t react more than squinting at the lady as he moves closer still. “Tesla,” he answers carefully. Tesla Tarasova. High on the list of SHIELD’s marks, higher on the list of people with reason to hate James Buchanan Barnes. That list seems endless. Wherever he goes someone pops out of the woodwork in a bid to take revenge on the Winter Soldier. He knows how many there are. He has all their names and faces memorized.

“What have you done to her?” Bucky nods at Nat, but keeps his face carefully neutral. To this woman Nat is nothing more than a coworker, and he intends to keep it like that.

“Sit.” Bucky almost _feels_ the order rather than hear it, and he wonders just how far Tesla’s powers reach.

He sits at the table and carefully places his guns in front of him. He’s hardly without weapons should Tesla take these, and she knows this too. She’s also very clearly unstable, if he’s to venture a guess, so who knows what will set her off and what not. With Natalia under her spell he’s playing it safe.

“Just a little thing I devised to make her more… _amenable_ ,” Tesla shrugs like it’s nothing. Who knows. It might be nothing to the likes of her. “She wasn’t cooperating.”

“How?” He asks. Always keep the crazies talking. They’ll either tell you their plot and subsequently the way to oppose them, or something useful in the environment will come up.

The woman regards him with contempt, her upper lip raised in a snarl. “The same way Hydra kept a leash on their prized _assassin_. I took all her memories.”

Tesla shifts and a blue glow is briefly visible in her cleavage. Bucky immediately recognizes it as a cosmic cube, even encased in a necklace as it is now. He can’t say he’s too surprised it shows up again, the damn stones have a knack of resurfacing where they’re not supposed to, but it makes his current situation all the more dire.

Bucky only half listens to Tesla’s tragic backstory; dad killed by the Winter Soldier, nasty childhood, nasty powers, yadda ya; like he hasn’t dreamed about her sad little face as Petrov led her away often enough. He’s sorry for the kid, he truly is, but she shouldn’t have messed with Natalia, and he weighs his options as she lists her grievances against him. Attack now while she’s distracted, or wait until she’s about to put whatever hairbrained scheme she’s got cooked up into motion? One thing he gets from her story is that they stumbled upon her by accident, that she was only here to release her komrades, her fellow students.

He shoots out of his chair while Tesla is mid sentence, intent on getting the mind stone. He doesn’t want to kill her, but he will if it comes to that.

“No.” Tesla says and Bucky feels his body obeying her, freezing on the spot. "No, little soldier, you and your girlfriend thwarted me often enough." Tesla straightens and walks around the table to where Bucky is hovering mid rise between sitting and standing.

Bucky helplessly watches as she cups his cheek, a lover's touch, and looks deep into his eyes.

"We're so much more alike than you think. Perhaps too alike." Tesla strokes his cheek and pushes his hair behind his ear. "Your true fear isn't that you can't live with what you've done," she whispers, bending in. "It's that you _can._ "

Bucky shudders as Tesla kisses him. He's not a stranger to being violated, but somehow Tesla's words struck a chord that makes him feel more vulnerable.

Suddenly there's a give in Tesla's mental hold on him as Natasha utters “страх это оружие.”

It's just enough for him to reach out and pull the necklace free with his metal hand and yank it off the chain. Tesla let's him duck and roll away, regarding him with a wicked smile, pulling a butter knife from her shoulder.  

With one wave with the knife she makes the necklace and protective casing disappear so he’s holding the bare cube in his hand and his head explodes. Images, words, sensations and emotions all cascade into his mind, all too fast to grasp and they leave him reeling.

He clutches his head as if to protect it from the onslaught. _Focus._  He needs to focus. He did this before, way back when Steve still thought he could bring his old pal Bucky back and they unleashed the power of a cube.

In the onslaught there are familiar voices, one of them sounds like Nat. He can bring her back. He _has_ to bring her back, because he can’t lose someone else. Can’t have her look at him with that polite but vacant look reserved for strangers Tony now gives him.

He howls in pain as he forces the thing to do his will, focussing on Natalia’s voice amidst the clamour in his head. Focussing on his _need_ to keep her, on his fear of being left alone again. He desperately clings to her voice, to the memories he has of her and he _pushes_ , until all of a sudden everything dies down and he lies panting on a dirty concrete floor. He weakly pushes himself up onto his hands and knees, grunting at the pain that seems to split his head in two, like everything he just saw and heard needs some kind of valve to escape from his skull.

Of Tesla and the cube there’s no sign, nor of the elaborate ballroom she created with her powers. He sits in a barracks, beds all pushed to the end of the space in a haphazard pile. An arm dangles lifelessly from between the rubbish, and on the floor are stains that can only be blood. Nat lies in a pool of her own and Bucky quickly crawls towards her to look her over. She’s unconscious but alive, bleeding from several wounds, none of which seem life threatening.

Gritting his teeth, Bucky picks up Nat in a bridal carry and hurries out of the facility, taking the same route back to their snowmobile. He carefully places her in the passenger seat and covers her with furs, and drives back to their safehouse as soon as possible.

 

\-------

 

_Thanks to his years of training Bucky doesn’t startle or jostle the needle he has mid stab through the flesh of his thigh when the door slams open and Tony stomps in. Bucky can sense the director’s displeasure without looking up, gritting his teeth as he pulls the needle all the way through._

_“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Tony demands, standing in front of Bucky with his hands on his hips._

_“You’re in my light,” Bucky replies without looking up, making a complicated knot with the thread instead._

_“James Buchanan…” Tony growls when Bucky cuts the thread, and before he knows it Tony cups his face and smashes their lips together in an angry kiss._

_“I’ve lost too many, you’re_ not _gonna be one of those,” Tony whispers when they pull back, both blushing and breathing hard._

_“Never,” Bucky replies._

 

\-------

 

It takes almost 22 hours before Natalia regains consciousness. 22 hours that Bucky spends huddled at her bedside feeling increasingly agitated. You can fit a hell of a lot of _what if…_ scenarios in 22 hours, and even more _should’ves_.

He needs Nat to be herself again, or else risk losing it himself. Tony used to be good at this. He was the one who could smile that sad little smile at Bucky and tell him _should’ve, could’ve, would’ve_ , and then kiss Bucky’s counter argument from his lips, without ever taking his own advice. Tony would’ve known what to do, could’ve hooked them up with the fanciest doctors and even fancier equipment. But Tony’s not Tony anymore, and Bucky burned too many bridges to call in favors of his own.

Twenty two hours and there’s a faint stirring on the bed, a twitch of her hand. When Bucky looks up it’s to Natalia suddenly sitting up and reaching for one of Bucky’s hidden knives and holding it to his throat so fast even he can’t hold her off in time.

"лучшая вещь двадцать первого века?" She asks, blade close enough to nick an artery at his smallest movement.

"чипсы с беконом."

Nat slumps back in the bed, letting the knife drop carelessly on the ground. “The girl?”

Bucky shakes his head. Tesla has gone to ground again, no doubt plotting his demise and that of all others involved in _training_ her. He can’t say he blames her, he’s done his own rounds.

“Hill needs to be informed.”

Bucky shoulders slump, but doesn’t object.

Nat regards him for a moment and nods at his lack of answer like she hadn’t expected anything else. “Tell me what happened.”

 

\------

 

_There are no words left anymore, Bucky has tried them all. To Tony this is the only way. He’s done the math and his math never fails. Bucky considered leaving town. Just… step on his motorbike and drive off, see where the wind will take him. Somewhere without televisions and newspapers. Somewhere where Oscorp and Hammer don’t reach._

_He couldn’t. They have one night left. One night for Bucky to memorize every detail of his lover, because come morning he has to remember for them both._

_Bucky hates this. Hates the slump to Tony’s shoulders that speaks of a weariness only extreme measures can erase, he hates how his smile almost never reaches his eyes anymore, hates how the lines around his mouth have become more pronounced than his crow’s feet that used to speak of mirth. He hates feeling helpless most of all as he pulls Tony to his chest and hugs him tight, biting a mark on his shoulder in a useless attempt to stake his claim._

_One night. Just one night._

 

\----

 

It’s not the same without Nat. Bucky still gathers intel, finds new sources, raids bases, but the gestures feel hollow. Meeting Tesla and being _used_ by the cosmic cube have left him feeling more vulnerable than he has in years. Every night he’s greeted by flashbacks and nightmares, like the cube has thrown open the cupboards of his memory when it perused its contents and there’s no way to close himself off again. He’s not even sure how he did in the first place. Distraction helps, but where getting hammered on cheap vodka with Natalia felt comfortable like an old glove, it now only feeds his melancholy and loneliness.

He’s not going back though. There’s no going back.

 

\-----

 

Bone tired Bucky pulls off his mask and lets it drop on the little cabinet by the door. It’s time to move his base of operations, he’s feeling too comfortable here, too much at home. He knows exactly how many flowers decorate the garish curtains and where all the stains and scuffs are on the carpet.

He shakes out his hair like a dog and massages his eyes. Blasted rain. Why can’t Hydra hole up in a warmer climate.

He’s about to pull off his armour and step into the shower when there’s a knock on the door. Instantly on high alert Bucky pulls a gun from his holster and silently moves to the door. In the four weeks that he’s been here no one has ever come to his door. The neighbours politely ignoring each other was one of the reasons he chose this neighbourhood in the first place.

He listens through the door for any sounds that could indicate what kind of trap he’s about to walk into. Fuck it, he decides, he’s too tired to play along anyway, and pulls open the door. The sight leaves him frozen. It’s something straight from daydreams, or nightmares, Bucky's not sure anymore.

Tony stands in front of his door, white shirt soaked and why is he only wearing a shirt in this weather and where the hell did he come from and what is he doing here?

Bucky is rooted to the spot as Tony's eyes search his own and he reaches out a hand towards Bucky.

" _I remember._ "

 

 

Just two words, but Bucky has trouble processing them, the meaning behind them too large for him to comprehend. Tony's eyes are sad again, as sad as they used to be back before.

Bucky makes a half aborted motion to-- he doesn't even know what, before common sense and decades of training kick in and grab Tony's hand to pull him inside. The move brings their chests close together and Bucky's body burns with the remembered sensation of pulling Tony close, of lying on top of him, of…

He lets go off Tony's hand likes he's been burned and pushes the door shut, creating some distance between them.

"How'd you find me?"

Tony regards him with that small smile of his that's more in his eyes than his lips, a look he used to have whenever Bucky pulled the cowl off his head and would go off on a rant. A look that used to be followed by a kiss to shut him up.

"Natasha," Tony replies, derailing Bucky's train of thoughts and Bucky huffs. Of course.

There are so many questions all clamouring for his attention Bucky doesn’t know where to start. That Tony came to him must mean something, right? But he doesn’t dare hope, it’s too convenient, too much exactly what’s keeping Bucky up at night.

“How do I…” Bucky trails off. Tesla might be playing him some more, but Bucky doesn’t want to be pulled from this dream, doesn’t dare ask that question just yet. The possibility of having Tony here, in the flesh, makes Bucky yearn to touch so much it almost physically hurts.

Something must show in his face, because Tony’s gaze softens and he sighs.

“On the night before the… procedure,” Tony says, his voice clear but strained, “you were so _angry_ , so _disappointed,_ but still you stayed.” He puts his hands in his pockets and bounces up and down on his toes, a gesture so Tony-like it’s like a punch to the gut.

“I don’t think I could’ve gone through it without you.” Tony fixes his gaze on Bucky. “I would’ve faltered, but you gave me the strength, even though it hurt you.”

Bucky remembers it like yesterday. Watching helplessly as Tony left, not knowing if Tony still recognized him when they next saw each other. The weeks Tony spent avoiding him, leaving a confusing trail of destroyed Iron man armours and worried teammates in his wake. The absolute horror when Tony was captured by Osborn and almost killed. Bucky was sure he would've lost his mind if Thor hadn't called him in to recover Tony's comatose body.

"Tony..." It's proof it's really him. No one knows they spent that last night together. No one could suspect what Bucky hoped to retrieve when he ordered Tony's back up memory be restored. "How?"

Tony shrugs. "My guess is you healed more than just Nat when you held that cube."

Bucky frowned. That had been over five weeks ago.

“I was in my workshop when suddenly my head seemed to explode and I passed out. I was out for 51 hours, long enough for everyone to start worrying,” Tony adds with that sardonic half smile that always makes Bucky want to punch those responsible for teaching Tony self depreciation as a self defense mechanism. He automatically takes a step forward, like there hasn’t been years between now and then, the steps of this dance are ingrained into his being.

“I woke up just in time for Natasha to come back and explain things.” Tony’s look turns pained, and he turns away, walking briskly further into the apartment, leaving Bucky no choice but to follow.

In the living room Tony is studying the pictures framed on the wall, his hands still balled up in the pockets of his pants. “Lovely family you’ve got here,” he smiles with a nod to the larger picture of the set. The place is littered with photos and memorabilia to look like a real home instead of a safehouse.

“I’m adopted,” Bucky answers dryly, feeling himself relax just the tiniest bit at their banter. It was what had drawn them together in the first place, even if Tony’s had been sharp and laced with hurt at the time.

He sees Tony is surprised by his own snort and it makes Bucky smile a bit, until Tony’s mirth evaporates and he looks sad again.

“Bucky, I…” He starts, unsure, and it’s nothing for the genius to be tongue tied.

Bucky watches as Tony walks over to the couch and nonchalantly settles himself on the arm, either to give himself something to lean onto, or to put distance between himself and Bucky. He stares at the carpet deep in thought, as if he’s trying to reach a decision on something but can’t figure out all the variables. He doesn’t look much different from the last time Bucky saw him almost a year ago, maybe a little more grey at the temples; a little less gaunt. Bucky longs to walk over and touch, to get reacquainted with him.

“I’m sorry I left,” he offers instead, startling Tony into looking up at him.

"Don't see that you had too many options," Tony answers, pinning Bucky with that clear blue gaze of his. "I don't think… I don't think I could've stayed at all." At this Tony looks down again, at his fists tightly balled on his lap.

“I had to see you,” Tony says out of the blue, not quite meeting Bucky’s eye. “I’m not… I don’t…”

“Spit it out, Stark,” Bucky huffs, walking closer and settling himself in the armchair next to the couch. All this stammering is making him antsy.

“I wasn’t sure how welcome I’d be,” Tony says when Bucky sits. “The memories… They left me reeling. I don’t like much of who I was back then, I wouldn’t blame you for not liking me either.”

The look of pure sadness breaks Bucky’s heart, and only not knowing what Tony wants from him keeps him in his seat instead of at Tony’s side.

“You were my only comfort,” he adds, smiling softly. “I don’t think I ever told you that. Without you…” Tony shakes his head and doesn’t continue, but Bucky can guess at his line of thought. If it wasn’t the drink that would’ve done him in it would’ve been one too many risks during a mission.

_Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve._

“You didn’t have to tell me,” Bucky counters. For all his loquaciousness Tony never was very good at talking about himself, not in a meaningful way, but that was fine with Bucky, _is_ fine. Tony showed him in other ways how much he cared. When he blew up at Bucky for taking too many risks - they had a good pot and kettle thing going -, when he stayed the night to fall asleep in Bucky’s arms, when he Bucky was the only person he showed how much strain he was under. Bucky knew.

“Didn’t have to, but I want to now. You meant the world to me, and I… I needed to see you. Just to say that.”

It’s in the slump of Tony’s shoulders that Bucky knows he doesn’t expect anything back and his inner voice that sounds a lot like Nat scolding him for not taking action.

“I never forgot,” he says softly. “Couldn’t,” he huffs, like it’s a bad joke. It could be one. A brainwashed assassin and a genius walk into a bar, who leaves with his memory in tact?

“Couldn’t stop thinking about you, not even out here.” It’s a gamble, because Tony only talked about the past, but Bucky is tired of letting the past dictate the now. “Could never quit loving you.”

The relief on Tony’s face transforms him from just handsome to painfully beautiful, and Bucky thanks his lucky stars he somehow is granted this second chance.

“I’d like to get to know you again,” Tony says, looking almost shy. Shy but hopeful, a sentiment Bucky feels reverberating deep within himself.

“I’d like that.”

They stare at each other and the tension of before slowly dissipates, but to Bucky it doesn't feel quite right just yet. 

"As friends?" He asks, because he has to know. He doesn't know if what he wants is even possible, not with years and new traumas between them. Who's to say they're still as compatible as before? He hopes they are. 

"To start?" Tony answers and Bucky agrees with a nod and his first genuine smile of the evening. 

There's no going back, but this feels like a new beginning. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Note 1) I am not a comic book adept, but I tried my best to stay as close to canon as possible, except in the case of Tarasova's story line. I cut and pasted that to suit the needs of the story. Comics are confusing!
> 
> Note 2) I used Google to translate for me into Russian, so if you spot anything off please let me know!
> 
> Nat to Tesla: [fear is a weapon]
> 
> Exchange between Bucky and Nat:  
> [Best thing about the 21st century?]  
> [Bacon chips]
> 
> Note 3) Please let me know what you think, or come say hi on [Tumblr](http://bill-longbow.tumblr.com) or join us on the 16+ [ Stuckony discord server ](https://discord.gg/jtXcc3n) for all things Tony, Bucky and Steve!


End file.
